Thank You
by Wickedgal08
Summary: A look at the most epic scene of the finale through a different set of eyes. "She takes his hand and smiles, uttering the two words she's wanted to say to him for a long time. Thank you... He doesn't understand yet but he will."


**Thank You**

Summary: Just a simple one-shot conveying the most epic scene in the finale from a different set of eyes. "She takes his hand and smiles, uttering the two words she's wanted to say to him for a long time. 'Thank you.' He doesn't understand yet, but he will."

/./././././

She's done a lot of crazy things in her time – running from the law, making love to someone in the back of a police car, wrestling boys when other girls were playing with their dolls – but she's never delivered a baby at the backstage of a concert before. It's unreal.

"Breathe, just breathe," she chants, not sure who she's referring to. "Breathe, breathe, breathe."

She knows Claire is just as terrified as her, more so in fact, so she has to be brave. But it's easier said than done; she's not a doctor, she can't handle a cut let alone labour and yet she knows she has to do it. She can't leave Claire alone.

Then this guy wanders it, one of the band members she presumes. He's in his mid-twenties, or thereabouts, and obviously not a doctor, but his presence comforts her somehow. It's like an old friend is here with her, though he is a stranger to her. She doesn't know his name, doesn't know a thing about him, but she does know he has to be a part of this.

"Can you get us some water and blankets?" she asks him, touching him so that he can feel the urgency and tension in her body.

"Water?" he repeats, finally realising what is going on. "Sure."

He dashes off, leaving her with no other option but to deliver the baby. No ifs, ands or buts. This is the way it's supposed to happen. She ties her hair up, mentally preparing herself for the hardest challenge she's ever faced.

"Right, Claire, this is about the time when you're supposed to start pushing," she instructs, still tying her hair up.

Claire shakes her head, insists she isn't ready and starts to weep with fear. _Don't let me do this,_ her eyes are saying, _I'm not ready._ You are, you are, Kate coaxes her, we'll do this together. She says something along those lines anyway and both are, for the moment, reassured.

"Push," she calls, watching that brave woman fight to bring life into the world. "PUSH!"

An odd thing happens then. It's as she yells push that she gets a flash of a situation just like this, only it's in the jungle. She jolts back in fear and stares downwards in shock. _What just happened?_

She has no time to contemplate, no time to reflect. This baby is coming now and she's sure, without understanding why, this is a boy. He'll be called Aaron and he'll be loved by Claire and Charlie and be born on an island... Oh God! _Charlie._ It all comes flooding back now and she smiles at Claire, hoping she remembers too but there's no other expression on the Australian's face but intense pain and concentration so she ignores the vision for the moment.

The baby enters and she inhales with shock. _This is Aaron,_ she thinks, starting to cry. _Oh God, he is so beautiful._ She clears his airway passageways so that the child can breathe, understanding and knowing without looking that he is indeed a little boy, and hands him to Claire. A look of quiet understanding passes through them, which she interprets at first as being mere gratitude.

It's as Claire wraps her arms around the baby that Kate understands Claire _does_ remember.

"It's Aaron," Claire weeps, staring at her through bleary eyes and clutching the child close to her as if afraid he'll disappear. "It's Aaron."

Kate smiles and laughs through her tears, realising who Claire really is. She's not just a stranger in the cab she hijacked – she's the woman she became tight friends with, her confidante, her best friend, and the woman she never stopped believing in, both on and off the island. She gazes at Claire with reverence, finally understanding their chance encounters and understanding Desmond's reason for bring her here.

Their moment is interrupted by footsteps as the bass player from the band returns, clutching the blanket to his chest like a lifeline.

She stares at him with new eyes. _Charlie._ Aching from a grief which stretches back into the vaults of time, she rises slowly and remembers his untold bravery. She remembers watching him swing from his neck and how he kicked and fought his way back alive, thanks to Jack. She remembers seeing him gaze at Claire with unspoken love and remembers how holding Aaron in his arms used to make his eyes light up.

Most of all, she remembers his courage.

He died for rescue and died for his friends and for that she can never repay him. She can't even speak, so emotional is she at seeing him again. She takes his hand and smiles, uttering the two words she's wanted to say to him for a long time.

"Thank you."

He looks confused by her words, protesting it's just a blanket. She wishes she could explain how heroic he is and how long she's held him in her memory but that'll only confuse him further. He needs to _feel_ the truth, rather than hear it.

"You go and give it to her," she instructs him gently.

He doesn't understand yet, but he will.

"I couldn't find any water," he explains to Claire. She watches carefully.

Claire, who remembers him and who can't take her eyes off of him, takes matters into her own hands and reaches out to touch his hand. With baited breath and smiles the size of America, they watch as he reels back in shock and, later, awe.

Kate steps away and gazes back at the scene, smiling even wider when Claire whispers Charlie's name and he whispers hers. Hands touch faces, lips fumble clumsily together like long lost friends and foreheads touch. They steady each other, realising where they are and who they are.

She starts to cry again, cherishing the moment. Desmond walks in, notices the scene and stares at her, ever the emotional wreck.

"You understand?" he asks quietly, throwing an unnoticed smile in Charlie's direction before turning back to her.

She does understand. She understands perfectly and realises there's one more person who needs to remember. Jack.

His very name sends shivers down her spine and her tears flow thick and fast, remembering the very last years of her life staring out through the window, praying and wishing she could see him again. Now she will. She will find him and make him remember too, so that their reunion will be just as sweet, just as meaningful as the one these two wonderful people are sharing.

Jack doesn't understand yet, but he will. He will.


End file.
